In Death 29 - Kindred in Death

pressed her hands to her face. Rubbed hard as if to scrub away a film of ugly memories.
    She turned to MacMasters when he came to the door. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
    “Don’t be. She was mine, and I needed to know . . . everything. I needed to know. You’re going after the father now.”
    “Yes, I am.”
    He nodded. “This is enough for me, has to be. I’m taking a leave of absence. My wife and I need time. She asked me to apologize to you.”
    “There’s no need.”
    His face was unbearably sad, unbearably weary. “There is, for her. Please accept.”
    “Then I do.”
    He nodded again. “Good-bye, Lieutenant.”
    “Good-bye, Captain.”
    She made a copy of the recording, gathered her files. When she walked into her office, Roarke turned from her window.
    “This is getting to be a habit. I didn’t know you were here.”
    “I haven’t been here long. Long enough to have heard the last of that.” He came to her, stroked her cheek. “Difficult for you. Hideous to hear him go step-by-step on what he did to that girl, and to that young woman.”
    “There’ll be worse. There’s always worse.” For a moment she felt inside her what she’d seen in MacMasters’s eyes. Unbearable sadness. Unbearable weariness. “Something like that, like him? It makes you realize there’s never a limit on cruel.”
    “Dallas?” Peabody hesitated at the door. “I just wanted to tell you I’d write this up. Mira was in Observation as requested, and she’ll write up her findings.”
    “Good. Don’t worry about the paperwork. Go. I’ve got a few things left to deal with. Do me a favor and go take care of the Louise thing. Whatever’s left of the rehearsal, the rest of it.”
    “We can be late. She’ll get it.”
    “Yeah, she will. But there’s no point. Go. If you’re handling it I don’t have to feel guilty for being late.”
    “Okay. It’ll be good to shake this off, just shake all this off and do something . . . bright.”
    “Yeah. I’ll be another hour or two.” She let out a long breath when Peabody’s footsteps echoed away. “Bright. I’m not in the mood for bright. Computer, display map of Manhattan, Lower West.”
    “Why?” Roarke asked when the computer acknowledged.
    “You weren’t there for the whole thing. He gave me the old man. Gave me conspiracy to murder, conspiracy to attempted. I’m not sure he realized it. He didn’t give me where the nest is. Not directly. But he said he walked home. After he killed Robins, he walked home.”
    She rubbed the rocks of tension in the back of her neck. “And the coffee. The go-cup. Those Hotz Cafés are all over the place. But figuring he didn’t walk from one side of the island to the other, he picked up the coffee between his nest and the scene. Probably closer to his nest. And the nest is going to be within reasonable walking distance of the loft.”
    Roarke stepped behind her, gave her neck and shoulders a good, hard rub. “Then you’re going to like the data I brought you.”
    “What data?”
    “On the security system. No, try to relax for one damn minute,” he ordered. “Let’s get a couple of these boulders out of here. I’ve been running various data streams on that, adding some Nadine’s research team came up with. And I’d refined it to about a dozen most likelies, which I assumed you’d want to check out.”
    “That’s good. Excellent. The data,” she added. “The shoulder rub’s not so bad either.”
    “Just doing my job. There now, that’s a little better.” Stepping back, he took out his PPC. “If we add the geographical element to the data I have . . . We have not a dozen, but . . . one.”
    Her eyes lit with purpose. “Give me that.”
    “This is my job, too.” He held it out of reach. “A Peredyne Company in the West Village.”
    “Not an individual, not the usual initials. Just the P, which could be why I kept missing it.”
    “It may also be because Peredyne’s listed as an arm of Iris Sommer Memorial.”
    “I.S. Clever. Well, you’re more clever since you found it. I need to run it to make sure it’s not—”
    “Already doing it,” he told her. “And . . . there’s no listing in New York for either of those companies. It’s a shell within a shell.”
    She turned, rushed out to the bullpen. “Baxter.”
    “Nice job, Dallas.” He gave her a wink, a salute. “I love going off the roll on the upside.”
    “You’re not going off the roll. Conference room, five minutes.